Hot and Bothered
by Angela3
Summary: A late-night meeting between Master Kenobi and Senator Amidala...


Pulling back his hood as he entered the dark club, the Jedi glanced at the time bar on the wall, noting with a faint smile that he was right on time. He scanned the crowd quickly, spotting her almost immediately. She was always early. "I don't mind waiting," she'd told him.  
  
Instead of going to her immediately this time, he took a moment to simply watch her. She stood leaning against the bar, looking around for him, her chestnut hair falling around her shoulders. From his position in a dark corner, he felt confident that he would not be spotted, and he let his eyes rake over her small body. He had long ago noted her lovely face, but seldom did he have the chance to admire her in full as he was doing now. Knowing a good oppurtunity when he saw it, he allowed himself to feast his eyes on her and attempted to memorize her every detail. He loved this woman deeply. She was his best friend. So perhaps it was this genuine affection and caring for her that made his arresting lust for her so shocking and seemingly incongruous, even to himself. The Jedi marvelled that it was possible to feel such pure, simple endearment and devotion for someone, and at the same time, a carnal passion. He had never experienced the two at the same time for someone, and never in his life had he been so aroused simply by looking at a woman. Her effect on him was incredible. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted any woman in his life, and could often hardly contain himself in her presence. It was strange, too, that his almost impossible need to make love to her went far beyond his appreciation for her perfect little body -- all long limbs and small but soft curves, long dark hair and big dark eyes --  
  
She could feel his eyes on her. She was no Jedi, but Master Yoda had told her she was strong in the Force and she had learned to attune her senses to his presence. Now she revealed in the sensation of being undressed with his eyes, knowing that he wanted her. The thought made her shiver. It was so wrong and so dangerous that this man, her friend and confidant, had such an unbridled hunger for her. What was even more shocking was her own enjoyment of it. She refused to let herself reciprocate his unspoken passion, but she found herself delighting in it all the same. The danger of it -- the rush of sexual power -- was like a drug. A drug she was quickly becoming addicted to. They met here in this club for conversation, consultation, and a bit more -- something not obvious enough to be flirtation, but something serious and forbidden. It amazed her that simple heated looks could flush her skin...he had yet to touch her in any inappropriate way, but his eyes said things that words could not. They told her how he wanted her, even though she knew he thought she was unaware of his desire. She loved him, truly, and valued his friendship and advice, and basked in his appreciation for both her mind and her body. The back of her head whispered of her own desire for him, but she pushed this voice away.  
  
She was perhaps the last person one would expect to be a flirt, but the Jedi had seen another side to this woman...a side that only served to further pull him into the sticky quagmire of his own ardor. The slow realization that she detected his presence dawned upon him as he watched her roll her glass down her neck, her lips just slightly parted. She was teasing him, damn it! He groaned to himself, and actually gasped out loud when she made eye contact with him. Even more shocking was her voice that only he could hear, thanks to the Force. "Hello, Obi-Wan," she said through a personal mental connection.  
  
He pushed his way across the dance floor to where she stood at the bar. "How did you do that?" he said softly, his voice a mixture of amazement and eagerness.  
  
"My husband taught me," she grinned.  
  
Obi-Wan laughed out loud. "Did he make you bring this, too?" he motioned to the blaster dangling from her utility belt. She nodded and it was her turn to be alarmed when Obi-Wan's arms wrapped around her waist, working the clasp at the back of her belt. This position forced her close to him, so close that her breasts were pressed hard against his chest as he struggled with the stubborn clasp. Funny, she hadn't remembered it ever being so difficult to unlatch.  
  
"You won't be neededing it," he said, tucking it into a pocket of his long cloak.  
  
"But Anakin said -- "  
  
"Forget what Anakin said," he winked. "You've got me. I'll take good care of you, I promise."  
  
Padme smiled. "What are you, my bodyguard?"  
  
"I am whatever you want me to be, m'lady." His eyes were laughing but his tone was sincere. A large smile spread over his face. "Would you care to join me a more private location?"  
  
"Lead the way, Jedi," she said.  
  
Once they were away from the hustle and bustle of the bar, Obi-Wan inquired about a persistant drunk who's advances on Padme seemed relentless. "Is he still bothering you?" he asked, his voice full of concern.  
  
Padme sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said. "And he's right across the room."  
  
Obi-Wan's face lit up with a wide grin. "What would you say to a kind of alternative Jedi mind trick to absolutely guarantee he get the point that you're not interested?"  
  
Padme's eyes grew wide as she saw the stubborn suitor approaching. "Anything," she said. "I trust your great Jedi wisdom." She smiled, but he sensed that her the source of her annoyance was near.  
  
"Follow my lead," he said quietly. "Act romantic. Pretend that you find me attractive."  
  
"Who's pretending?" she whispered in his ear, unbelieving of her own behavoir. She was a different person when she was with Obi-Wan. The things she said didn't even seem to come from her...or rather, they seemed to come from some little voice inside that she did not know existed, a kind of stranger within her own body. Obi-Wan laughed a little, and she blinked slowly under his gaze, trying to read it but unsure of the emotion behind his eyes. They sparkled with something -- something beyond mischief, but she couldn't place it.  
  
When he sensed that the persistent suitor was within earshot, and indeed, eavesdropping, he began to stroke her cheek gently with a calloused hand. His action surprised the Senator and she found herself struggling to regain her composure as his rough fingertips ran across her smooth skin. Taking a lock of her hair in his hand, he played with it, swirling it around his finger in apparant fascination. When he met her gaze, his eyes were unreadable, the emotion in them unfamiliar to Padme in a wonderfully frightening way. "I want to make love to you," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Right here; right now." His words were so firm and scandaleous, she forgot completely for a moment that they had a one-man audience to perform for.  
  
In genuine surprise, she gulped before she spoke. "Right here?" They were the only words she could manage.  
  
"Yes," he breathed, the word barely a whisper. "Right here against this wall."  
  
"Against the wall?" she asked, a bit confused as to the mechanics of it. "But -- how --"  
  
The man had already moved away, obviously seeing that the lady he had his eye on was quite distracted by other -- and better -- options.  
  
But Obi-Wan continued. "Would you like a demonstration?" There was a fire dancing in his eyes that was mesmorizing, and she felt absolutely entranced by it, unable to tear her eyes away from his. Before she could stop herself, the word had escaped her lips: "Yes." Gods, what kind of Jedi magic was he working on her?  
  
"It's not magic, Padme," he said into her ear. "This --" his voice was barely audible, barely a tickle against her skin. "This," he whispered, "is real."  
  
Her chest was rising heavily as she struggled for air. She gasped aloud when she felt his hands just below her ass, and thought she might faint from shock and something else, unidentifiable, when she felt him lift her off the floor completely, his arms locking tightly around her waist. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Something flashed in Obi-Wan's eyes and he seemed to almost growl his next words. "Good girl," he said. "You like this, don't you?"  
  
She managed to nod, frightened by their mutual boldness. "Only a game," she told herself. "It's only a game."  
  
Obi-Wan looked at her intensely, seemingly a bit perturbed. "You're one hell of an actress," he said lowly so that only she could hear, a bit irked. He was tired of her denying her own attraction to him.  
  
His brief irritation soon passed, however, and he decided that he was not done with her yet. "Keep your legs tight around me," he said. She shifted, pulling herself tighter around him and closer to him. Her eyes went wide with alarm as she felt his hardness between her legs. She hadn't been expecting that. He shifted slightly and she could feel it pressing perfectly into her, right where she wanted it. A familiar heat flushed her body and she felt a rush of wetness at her core. She couldn't recall ever feeling so aroused.  
  
She let her eyes drift closed as he nuzzled his nose into her neck, speaking softly. "You feel that?" he whispered. He ground his hips against hers subtly and she moaned involuntarily. "Do you see what you do to me?" His voice was low and it dripped of his lust. "You can't understand," he said. "You can't understand how I want you."  
  
Obi-Wan moved his head from her neck to look at her finally, a kind of thrill passing through him as he noted how dark and wild her eyes were. "Loosen your arms, darling," he said, and she shivered at the pet name and how natural and smooth it was coming from his lips. She did as he said, letting her body fall back so that he was supporting her fully. One arm he kept firmly around her middle, and the other he moved to rest against the wall behind her and balance them. With the arm around her waist, he guided her movement so that she was meeting his lightly thrusting hips. "This --" he said, "is exactly -- exactly how I would make love to you." His chest rose and fell heavily with his shallow breathing and the woman in his arms moved one hand down to rest above his heart, the other running along his neck and through his hair. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she was lost in her own passion, amazed that the simple motions of sex could feel so delicious. "Too much..." she managed to say.  
  
"Too much what?" he said, his eyes full of concern when she opened her own to look at him.  
  
She licked her lips a little before she spoke. "Too much clothing," she whispered.  
  
Before she even realized it, they were in a back room of the bar. It amazed her how quickly Jedi could move, seeming to almost transport themselves from one location to another in the blink of an eye. The door hissed shut and she heard the lock click into place. Obi-Wan had used the Force to close it without ever taking his eyes off her.  
  
"Tell me what you want," he said, his lips barely brushing her neck. He moved his way slowly up to her earlobe, and she could feel his soft breath on her skin. "We're all alone now. It's just me and you. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." He kissed her earlobe, so light it was barely a kiss. And then, she felt him suck on it lightly and she moaned as he found an erogenous zone she didn't know she had.  
  
It was so mindnumingly consuming, this feeling that was burning through Padme's body. Lust, she realized. She'd never known how powerful it was...at least, never realized that she could feel it so sharply. Gathering her resolve as best she could, she said softly, "Obi-Wan, you're playing with fire."  
  
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes a wild sea of blue and gray and green, swimming with lust and love. She felt his rough beard journey up her jawline, wildly erotic in its coarseness. His voice was low and urgent, full of something raw and unabridged with his next words. "Burn me," he growled.  
  
Padme was unsure how two words could spark such a fire within her, but she felt something snap insider of her...some dam of resistance finally breaking. "Tell me you want me," he said, his deep voice urgent. "I know you do."  
  
"I do want you," she said. "I need you, Obi-Wan." The desperation in her voice, the raw emotion of it, was unfamiliar to her and alarming in its newness.  
  
"You have me," he breathed. "I'm yours. Always." His heart broke a little with his own words, realizing that he would never truly have her, for she belonged to another.  
  
"Kiss me, Obi-Wan," she said. It was a simple command, but a deep one. He studied her full pink lips for a moment, biting his own lower lip as if in concentration. Despite all that had already passed between them, he knew that if he kissed her, he would have great difficulty in stopping. But the temptation was too great. Her wet pink mouth was quivering slightly, and he knew that he must taste her. Slowly, he moved so that she was pressed firmly against the wall, moving the arm that encircled her waist so that his hand was now occupied with running up and down her side. Time seemed to stop as he lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her full lips in a gentle kiss. He pulled away and looked at her, his eyes full of honest, deep emotion. He moved to kiss her again light and slow, soft wet kisses that seemed to take them both to some seperate reality. Both kept their eyes opened, afraid that if they should let their lids drop, the other might simply disappear. He moved to kiss the corner of her mouth, up to her ear and just under it, coming down again to meet her lips once more, both of their eyes drifting shut as they lost theirselves in each other. He was firmer now, but if it was possible, his kiss seemed even softer and just wet enough. Needing more, Padme opened her mouth and was delighted by Obi- Wan's expert use of just the right amount of tongue. His lips pulled at hers in quick, sucking kisses that left her breathless and his hand journeyed under her shirt to caress the underside of her breast.  
  
Padme's eyes shot open at the sound of Anakin's voice.  
  
It took her a moment to realize that she was in the bedroom of the apartment that she shared with her husband. Her nightgown clung to her skin and she was covered in a light sheen of sweat. The covers, she noted, had been kicked from the bed, likely in synchronization with Obi-Wan dropping his robe in her dream.  
  
Anakin was looking at her adoringly. "You were dreaming about me again, weren't you?" he smiled.  
  
Padme inhaled deeply and flashed him her largest smile. "Of course," she said. "You and only you."  
  
"Sorry to interupt," he said, and with a wink, turned over to go back to sleep.  
  
Padme sighed and a tear rolled down her cheek. Soon, she had returned to a fitful sleep, knowing that her dreams would always lead her back to Obi- Wan...Obi-Wan, her torment and her joy.  
  
(Disclaimer: These characters are not my original creation. No profit is intended from this story.) 


End file.
